The struggle to write has been so real lately. Well, not just lately, but after my initial surge of enthusiasm, I sort of sank back down again, and got overwhelmed and bogged down by all the feelings. The feelings! They are so hard to describe. I wish I could screen a movie of them so people could truly understand what is happening inside me. (And inside of others with similar struggles.)
My inability to write extends to emails I need to return. I'm sorry, friends. Thank you for the grace. The inability is still here as I type this. It has already been several hours since I began. I write in blips and blurbs because, for now, that's what my nervous system allows.
The world around me is very loud lately. Not just energetically, because, WTF?!?, but literally - there has been a construction crew doing pipe work for about 6 weeks now. Every morning, I wake up to the BEEP BEEP BEEP of the trucks getting into position. And the drilling. And the yelling. And then more DRILLING! I'm so thankful necessary (I assume) work is being done, but I am so sensitive to the noise. It creates even more chaos in my insides. I long for peace, where I can hear the birds and the wind in the trees and smell the grass, not the exhaust.
And then there is the whole "watching the world around us be deliberately turned into a giant dumpster fire" thing. I don't understand, and I don't know how people are okay with it - how they support so much destruction. I watched a FUCKING INSANE government session today where they were debating a bill written by the red team regarding not allowing kids to dress up as "Furries" and use litter boxes in schools... Something that is obviously not happening, but, our taxes are paying for the politicians to debate this bullshit? It was in Texas, and I wanted to scream out loud. I was crying from the rage seething inside me. Instead of screaming, I'm writing.
The things that have been keeping me going lately have been the little things, but things I absolutely refuse to take for granted.
My bed, for one, is something I verbally express gratitude for every single day. Far too many people don't have one, and I didn't for a long time. (Up until this past November, I slept on a chaise lounge, and prior to that, a camping cushion for years) U.S. society in general takes having a bed for granted. I never will again. I also express verbal gratitude for my home every day. It isn't a healthy environment, emotionally speaking, but it is walls and a roof that protect me and keep me and my girls safe. For now, we are okay, and I don't take that lightly.
Fresh coffee every morning is truly a miracle. I don't know what it is about coffee, specifically dark roast, but if I have it, I can center myself, at least for the few minutes I'm drinking it. It's like a warm hug for my soul. Dramatic? Perhaps. But we all have our things. And, before you come at me and say I'm addicted to caffeine, no, I'm not. I drink 90% decaf - I just really love the taste of coffee.
I've been cooking and allowing myself to relish my time in the kitchen. I'm so grateful for my EBT card, and not ashamed at all that I have one, even though many would try to demand that shame, as we have been taught that asking for and receiving help is something to be ashamed of. It has been one of the biggest blessings in my life these past few years. I buy fresh vegetables and bake a loaf of sourdough almost every week. I make soups and stews that last for several meals, and I feel accomplished and proud that I'm providing myself with healthy, nutrient-dense food. Yesterday, I made a big batch of spicy black bean sauce pasta for my friend who has been going through it and just needs a break. It took several hours because I like to take my time and layer the flavors. I infuse my food with love and intention so those eating it, including myself, feel not only satiated, but truly loved and honored. Food is so much more than sustenance. I hope it provides her with the space she needs to rest for a few days. She has helped me recently when I have been in deep need, and I'm so thankful I was able to do this for her.
My kitties are little bundles of pure light. One is 10 and has been with me since she was 4 months old. I found her at a shelter - actually, outside the shelter, being returned by her original adopter because their dog was "trying to kill her!" That day changed my life. She was originally supposed to be my mom's cat, but my mom, as it turns out, had a brain tumor at the time and couldn't care for her. And, really, she was always my soul girl from day 1. My ride or die. My favorite being in the entire Universe. I hug her, and the whole world melts away. She is so patient with me, and she understands that she's my comfort. My salve. It's such an amazing and special bond. "Miracle" doesn't even come close to describing her and I can't even really put into adequate words how much she means to me. My other girl is around 4 years old. She used to "belong" to my neighbors, but they never took care of her (or the other handful they "owned"). They made these sweet babies live outside in the snow and rain, birthing litter after litter, being sick, and having to beg and constantly search for food. I would feed and water them, but, for a time, I didn't think it was my right to rehome them. Then, the neighbors moved out and left them all there. Some wouldn't come to me, and some found other homes, but this baby was destined for me. She was already a daily companion at that point. She'd eat her food, and then we'd cuddle on the couch so she could rest comfortably and safely. She chose me way before I chose her. One day, when she was only 2 1/2 or so, and pregnant with her 2nd (I think) litter, she came inside my house and gave birth to 5 beautiful little beans. I had prepared a birthing space for her just in case she chose my home as her place. I'm proud to say that all those babies were healthy and got adopted quickly, and Mom is now with me forever. She is a feisty little thing. So small, since she was malnourished as a baby and a pregnant mama, but I'm so proud of her growth, both physically and emotionally, since we've been together. She gives me little kisses and basically wants to be snuggled like 95% of the day. The two of them have their differences, and I'm sure my older girl would rather still be an only kitty, but they tolerate each other now. Sometimes I even catch them sharing sleep space. It melts my heart. These kitties are my family, and I would do anything for them.
I have become very involved in online Mutual Aid. I'm part of a growing community on Threads (and sometimes Bluesky) that shares and amplifies urgent needs for others in and outside the immediate community. It makes me feel like I'm doing something even when I don't have funds to contribute. Community is so much larger than just our neighborhoods and cities. Community and community support should extend to everyone, no matter where they are. I consider the world my community, and you won't ever get me to shrink that view.
I am lucky to have connected with some friends in Gaza, also, who show me every day what true resilience and honor are. I'm in awe of these friends, and I will never again allow myself to take the small comforts for granted.
These are just a few of the things I'm focusing on lately to get through this shit storm. I remind myself that my contributions are not as small as they may seem. That capitalism and patriarchy have trained us so well to overlook humanity. It is a daily battle and effort to honor myself, but I do, and I hope you do, too.